


Five Times Harvey Showed he cared

by Splotcher



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Five Times, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 12:29:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splotcher/pseuds/Splotcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Harvey showed he cared. Like what it says on the tin. Cross posted from Suits meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Harvey Showed he cared

**Author's Note:**

> Interestingly enough, I forgot about this piece until someone replied to the posting and suggested I move it to AO3. Hope you all enjoy this piece. This is for you, anon (and if any of you happen to find my other pieces, will you remind me so I can post them here?).

Sometimes the night is overwhelming and full of dreams about briefs he didn’t know how to do until the day before and anxiety about papers that don’t make sense to his eyes, but he knows, knows there must be something he’s missing. Those nights are full of nightmares and when he gets up in the morning, he finds himself jittery, closely focused and more than a little paranoid as he goes over briefs again. Desperate to check every little nuance. 

Those days he can barely register people around him as he attacks papers and legalese with a single minded affinity.

But somehow, someway, things end up on his desk in that time. Things he knows hadn’t been there before. A piece of paperwork he looked feverishly for the night before. The phone number to a client he’d been unable to locate. 

Coffee. 

And while he has never seen this fae creature that leaves these gifts, he happily accepts them, because he has an idea who it is.

No one can rouse him from his single minded tasks, but one person makes him pause, even for just a second.

But like his grandmother told him, you don’t acknowledge good faeries or tell other people about them or they stop, or even take revenge on you for it.

So he never comments to Harvey that he appreciates it that the man cares.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

He’s sick as a dog when he comes in, but he doesn’t show it. Practice playing the straight man makes it easy to hide the heavy limbs, when aspirin hides the headaches and coffee hides the lethargy.

When he brings in the briefs to Harvey the man mostly ignores him. So he rattles everything off as quickly as he can, because damn if the man doesn’t have a second sense for peoples’ insecurities and he’d rather not have the mocking, snarky, disappointed Harvey in the room with him right now.

Mocking, snarky Harvey is just fine.

He’s almost done with the Joelmen brief when he turns and finds his eyes locked with Harvey’s. There a moment where his fever addled brain loses track and a jolt of adrenalin hits him, leaving him confused and ready to run for reasons he can’ fathom but wants to chalk it up to sickness.

Harvey doesn’t smirk. Just eyes him critically.

Mike swallows, does his best to restart his rain of thought. He begins to point out loopholes that he knows he’s already gone over but he’s so panicked at this point, he just wants to fill the searching silence with any noise possible.

“I’ll read the rest later.” Harvey cuts in suddenly, and waves him out. He kicks him out without the papers he has worked so hard to make perfect.

He’s more than a little distraught about the turn of events. He finds himself back at his desk, and throws himself into whatever project he has next, highlighter open, but not really marking anything.

Twenty minutes later, a lunch delivery shows up at his desk, already paid for.

When he opens the bag, he smells something wonderful. And a note.

_Good job on the briefs. Eat your damn soup._

And the Chicken Noodle may be better than what his Grandma made. But not by much.

&^*^*^*^**^*^*^

There are very few times that he is so uncomfortable that jumping out the window seems like a viable option. 

This window is fifteen stories up. The fact that he still considers it is a testament to how much he wants to remove himself from his new client’s company.

It wouldn’t be so bad if the man didn’t stop invading his damn space.

Bill Donovan owned the Midsummer’s canning company, a several hundred million dollar company. He was merging (aka, absorbing) a few of the smaller companies in their sphere of influence. Not enough to become a monopoly. Enough to require the work of high priced lawyers as some of the smaller companies fought against the new policies Donovan tried to instate. 

The man was leaning in again, under the premise of looking over his shoulder as he points out some wording in one of the contracts, but there is no reason he should be that close, with his breath on Mike’s neck and he knows Harvey told him to play nice, but he desperately wants to shove the guy back and get a bit of breathing room.

He points out something Donovan finds particularly outstanding, clapping him on the shoulder and leaving the hand there.

He really, really wants to shove it off. He shifts, trying to get a little room, but it’s a small couch and he can’t get away that easily. He’d have to get up and move, and he doesn’t want Harvey to think he can’t handle a handsy client.

But then Donovan puts his hand on Mike’s thigh. He is so shocked by this he doesn’t even hear the door open.

“Mr. Donovan, we don’t come from that type of firm. Kindly remove your hands.” Harvey’s voice is still amiable as he easily inserts himself into the conversation.

“Mr. Specter, I was just telling Michael how much I appreciated him. He’s a brilliant boy. He certainly wasn’t shying away from the praise.” Donovan gave his thigh a little squeeze.

Mike manages to proudly swallow the bile instead of letting it show on his face. 

Harvey’s amiable smile turns upwards.

“I imagine that’s because he was rooted to the spot by your scintillating conversation and wit. Or revulsion, which would by my actual first guess. Once again, Mr. Donovan, because you didn’t seem to hear me the first time…remove your hands.” 

He’s suddenly struck with the thought that the bigger Harvey’s smile gets, the more dangerous he becomes. It might have to do with the fact that he’s showing a lot more teeth.

Mr. Donovan doesn’t have this revelation right away.

“I’m paying your firm a lot of money. The least you could do is butt out when two consenting adults decide to learn more about each other.”

“You have my associate trapped up against the arm of the couch. If he could vibrate through the molecules, he’d be out of here like The Flash. As it is, you are making it very easy for me to drop you as a client completely and offer my services to your competitors, which, as luck would have it, would also pay me money and give me the satisfaction of watching you twist in the wind.”

Donovan is livid, he opens his mouth for an angry retort, but shuts his mouth just as fast, finally seeing past the smile on Harvey’s face.

Harvey keeps smiling, hands him the last bit of paperwork. He gives Mike a light push toward the door and they make their way back to the car, not speaking.

He sits in the passenger side, fussing at his bag while Harvey calmly starts the car.

As he gets ready to back out, his phone rings, and Harvey looks at the caller ID critically before answering.

“In my defense, he’s a douche bag and we can get more money from the competition. Just Saying.”

^*^**^*^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^*

He was under the impression that lawyers didn’t get held hostage very often, but here they both were. 

They had been spreading out papers on the conference table, going over their new case when the two men came in. They had guns, threw some papers one the floor, and started making demands.

He didn’t know who Lief Johnson was, but Harvey did once upon a time and was trying to talk the gunmen down. Apparently Lief didn’t work here anymore. For reasons scarily similar to the accusations the men were making.

“Nothing is going to be solved by shooting us. Let us go, and I promise to look into your allegations. You don’t, and I swear to you that I will do everything in my power to bury you and your little boyfriend there. Do your hear the sirens? The police are already here. This is a no-win situation, and you need to figure out exactly how much you want to lose.”

He’s beginning to worry about Harvey’s methodology. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be placating?! We’re the ones with your lives in our hands!” One of the men is a talker, and a loudmouth.

“Not my style and even if it was, it’s the other way around- you will not leave this building unscathed. You hurt us, and this entire firm will work to put you in the ground.”

“You must be real popular then.” The man sneers. The other gunman was getting jittery.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not about popularity, it’s about reputation. Can’t allow some people off the street to shoot a senior partner-we’d be laughed at.”

“Senior partner, hunh? And whose your little trained monkey there? Your secretary?”

Mike has to choke down a response. It actually isn’t hard, since his throat started closing up when he saw the first gun.

“Don, this is stupid, we gotta get outta here.”

“No. We came this far, and these people are gonna give us our money back.”

“What if they don’t have it?”

They start arguing now, and Mike can hear the heavy footfalls of people coming up the hallway. He starts a bit, wanting to turn and see who it is, to warn them back if it happens to be one of the staff, but Harvey grabs his wrist in warning. He stays still, looking straight ahead at the gunmen while they argue it out. Apparently they aren’t the best hostage takers in the world. He still doesn’t know if that’s good or bad.

But he sees a man in black riot gear inching past a cubicle out of the corner of his eye and wants to cry in relief.

Until the movement attracts the attention of the gunmen.

“You stay back or I’ll shoot them!” 

“Rich, stop waving that gun around, calm down, we got this!”

He can barely register that Harvey’s moving as everything begins to slow down.

‘Rich’ the gunman is swinging the weapon back towards them, but is beginning to panic. He’s careless, and there’s a flash as the gun goes off aimed right at him-

-and a shadow as Harvey steps in front of him, pushing him back and down.

Time seems to speed up then, a crash of glass, yells and screams as New York’s finest swarm the room. He doesn’t really register this, too concerned with bleeding Harvey in his arms.

“Oh god…oh god, Harvey, Harvey, I’ll call the ambulance-I”ll--”

“Don’t you thing there’s probably an ambulance already outside?” Harvey grumbles. The man winces at the pain from the wound in his upper chest. Mike knows it hasn’t hit any vital organs, but it must be damn painful.

He quickly puts pressure on the wound to slow the bleeding. Harvey winces again, and if he’d been a lesser man, he probably would have yelled.

He shifts Harvey to a more comfortable position, yanking off his suit jacket to press to the wound. Harvey’s suit is ruined, but he isn’t bitching about it, which terrifies Mike to no end.

Harvey’s breath is a little reedy. Somewhere in the background the cops are calling for EMTs while the gunmen sit subdued on the carpeted floor.

“You’re gonna be okay Harvey.” Mike says to him.

Harvey laughs a little. It sounds horrible. “Don’t think this means I care.”

“Yes, because I am a reflection of you and you didn’t want to get shot. Wait, I think I see a flaw in your reasoning.”

Harvey smirks a bit, then passes out just as the EMTs arrive.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Harvey whispers reassurances in his sleep. Mike knows this because he’s ended up sharing a bed with the man for the last three nights. 

Even though the bullet missed vital organs, he lost a great deal of blood. He ended up being hospitalized for three days. After that, Jessica put him on paid leave with the threat of finishing the job if he even dared set foot in the office for another three weeks.

Harvey had sulked about that, but since he couldn’t get off the bed without help, he had to accept.

To make sure Harvey did as he was told, Jessica put Mike with him. With the threat that she would end the both of them if anything happened to keep Harvey from healing. 

He wasn’t entirely sure what the glare he got from Jessica was for, but still too shook from the entire ordeal to do anything but nod dumbly.

The first night Harvey never got to sleep. He shifted a lot and every time he did, he would wince and lie still until whatever pain he had was manageable.

The second night was much the same.

The third night he ordered Mike to take the left side of the bed, because ‘watching him sleep in the damn chair was uncomfortable’. Mike took that to mean that Harvey blamed him for his inability to sleep. And since Jessica had threatened him, he did it without really arguing. It had nothing to do with a desire to be close to the other man, to make sure he was still alive.

He actually slept the third night. He mumbled nonsense, but it sounded vaguely reassuring.

He tossed and turned on the fourth night, still in pain until Mike joined him, then he settled. In his sleep, he managed to latch onto Mike and mumbled something that sounded like, “You’re alright.”

Mike had been smiling when he drifted off.

The fifth night he hadn’t even waited. Harvey had been hurting more so than usual, and had ended up taking one of the pain pills he so despised. He was already falling asleep when Mike got under the comforters.

“Mike. You’re okay.” The mutter is soft. The tone is hesitant.

It dawns on him then that maybe the person Harvey was trying to reassure was himself. 

“I’m okay.” He whispers, settling in close to Harvey. The man responds by sleepily wrapping an arm around him and laying his head down on Mike’s chest, a move that probably wouldn‘t have happened if he wasn‘t drugged on pain meds. Mike takes advantage anyway, stroking the older man‘s hair.

“I’m okay.” He whispers again. Harvey sighs.

“Good.”

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*


End file.
